Hands
by Queer Ki
Summary: Your hands create your destiny. Tenten/Naruto.


AN: Ki is still avoiding his computer and I'm pissed off. Therefore, I - the almighty Queer - decided to vent all of my anger into a one-shot. Because it is a solo project and I do not have anywhere _near_ the same talent as Ki, this is a rather disappointing little story. Feel free to flame.

It rambles and rambles and then explodes. KOOL!1oneSHIFT

In other news, this is dedicated to the current leader in our poll for the pairing for Fox Trot! Whoo!

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><p>Tenten rather liked her house.<p>

It was two levels of sturdy stone and mortar. Luscious vines of ivy transcended time and stretched for the sky, making their slow path across the near-barren wall. The windows were the same they had been ten years ago; the intricate designs carved into the frame done by her six year-old hands.

Her young eyes had watched her father sweat as he made the glass mix himself. The raw power that the fire emitted in the hearth made gooseflesh erupt all over her body. She felt as if she was witness to an amazing feat that one only saw every blue moon.

Tenten had also helped lay the brick with her father. Her mother had been in the kitchen, baking and laughing. It had been before _the_ incident. It had been before then, and her mother was smiling and dolloping spoonfuls of sweet-bun mix onto her tongue.

Her mother had had delicate hands: unmarred by scars or callouses. They were always a slight white color, and Dad always shooed her back into the house when there was work to be done, sweetly saying he never wanted such beauty to be ruined in the outside world.

He himself, however, was the complete opposite. He was gifted incredibly large hands that were fit for work. They were permanently a slight black: though it only seemed to compliment him. His caramel skin was dusted with scars, some deep and others not.

When his vaguely brute hands engulfed her mother's dainty ones, Tenten felt they were meant to be.

That they would stay together forever.

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><p>She had asked her mother about it, why they fit so perfectly. Her mother had ruffled Tenten's long brown hair, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.<p>

She went on to explain that destiny, supposedly such a ludicrous idea for their almost-poor family, was decided by hands. That they could be idle or in motion. That they could help or harm; give or take.

But there was another facet: they determining the destiny of love. She had smiled dreamily, telling her that if she were ever to find hands that were the match to hers, to hold on to them and never let them go.

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><p>Not a week later, a thief snuck into their house that they had built, hoping to find anything to fill his belly. Instead, he stumbled into the bedroom of a young woman. Seizing her, he demanded that the man that has been sleeping beside her bring back anything of worth to him. The man complied, handing over what few things of value they had, silent tears streaming down his face.<p>

He watched in horror as the man broke his wife's neck, dropping her to the ground and grabbing the items. As he dashed past the grieving husband, a young girl came into view. She was stock still, her face impassive as she stared him down.

The thief shivered.

Before he knew what had happened, she had grabbed a weapon on the wall and come at him. As he aimed to stab her neck from behind with the knife he had brought with him, she had jumped and he ended up only cutting her hair.

Eventually, he was on his back, staring into the insane eyes of this young girl. Her tiny lips formed the last words he would ever hear.

'Die.'

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><p>After the funeral, Tenten spent days in her room, drawing hands and throwing kunai. She got a sick satisfaction as the sharp weapon splintered the wood of her door. She didn't eat, her appetite had escaped her.<p>

Halfway into the sixth day, there was a tentative knock at her door.

'Go away.'

It opened slowly, revealing a blonde boy she did not know but remembered from the ceremony.

'Go away.'

He walked towards her, eventually sitting next to her on the bed. He was short, his blonde hair spiking every which way and his blue eyes expressive. Three marks marred his tan skin on each side of his face, though they seemed to just go with the aura he emitted.

His stubby arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her into a tight hug. He quickly hopped up and she never saw him until years later.

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><p>She forced herself from the room that day, telling her father that destiny was not molded by hands: but by fate. Her father had shook his head silently, but he obliged to her rigorous weapon training.<p>

Tenten never wanted her hands to find a match.

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><p>Naruto smiled and shook her hand. 'Thank you, Tenten-chan. That was a wonderful match.'<p>

Never before had Tenten held such a tiny hand, save for when dealing with Academy students. Her large and rough had completely covered Naruto's small and delicate one.

Though unbidden, memories of her past came to her mind.

Tenten smiled ruefully and shook her head.

_Of all the people..._


End file.
